


Big Brother Is Watching

by FanWriter



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9610397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanWriter/pseuds/FanWriter
Summary: Just a cute scene I think should totally happen in season 5.





	

**Author's Note:**

> On an unrelated note - why do good ideas for fanctions always happen when you're too busy to write them down?

''All I'm saying, Sherlock, is, next time, try not to reduce the victim to tears, yeah.''

Sherlock stopped on the stairs. ''It was the fastest -''

''Sherlock.'' John stopped and turned to give him a look.

Sherlock sighed. ''Very well.''

Continuing up the steps, John opened the door of 221B and stopped short. John looked back and forth between Mycroft, who was sitting in Sherlcok's chair, to his daughter, sitting in his own chair, as the two were apparently in the throes of a staring contest. ''Mycroft. What are you doing here? Where's Ashley?'' he asked looking around.

Not breaking eyes with Rosie, he said, ''I dismissed her.''

John wheeled back from where he was hanging his coat. ''You what? You - you dismissed my babysitter?''

''Your welcome.''

''I'm supposed to be thanking you for that?'' John asked incredulously.

Mycroft hummed an affirmative response. ''Unless, of course, you wanted your daughter to learn how to throughly examine someone's mouth with one's own tongue, then yes, I would say you should.''

''She was - in front of - unbelieveable.''

Sherlock, still standing in the doorway, looked at his brother curiously. ''So you've just been sitting with her all this time?''

''At least I'm actually watching the child, Sherlock. Unlike a certain libido-driven teenager.'' Mycroft curled his lip in disgust as he recalled the memory of the encounter. ''Besides, someone needs to control this child.''

John paused in searching his contacts list on his phone and looked up. ''Control?''

Mycroft sniffed at him. ''She needs to understand, John, that she is the child, not the adult. When it is time for lunch, she either eats lunch or waits until dinner. Not throw a temper tantrum or her food.'' He raised his head imperiously, his eyes still on Rosie. ''Eat it.''

Rosie, who has a small bowl of tiny cut-up apples in her lap, picks up a piece of the fruit, places it in her mouth and chews obediently.

Mycroft smiles and coos, ''Good girl,'' before resuming his mask of cool neutralness. Standing, he straightens his coat and places his umbrella in the crook of his arm. ''I trust you can manage to enforce a proper sleep schedule, John. Sherlock, there's a case for you on the desk; I'm sure I'll see you on Friday at,'' he glances at his watch, ''2:42 on the matter. Good afternoon, gentlemen.''

John stared at Mycroft's back as he walked out of the flat, blinking when he heard the door close downstairs. ''Do you think I can hire your brother to babysit?''


End file.
